


which way will the heavenly go?

by penrosequartz



Series: gods and assholes [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Vampires, getting drunk, i just tag and write summaries and titles in lowercase, idk what else to tag this with, it's not written in lowercase, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 02:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14178129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penrosequartz/pseuds/penrosequartz
Summary: directionless, josh finds sam again.





	which way will the heavenly go?

**Author's Note:**

> okay so fuckin uhhhh this is an original work? obviously  
> lowkey used the song "demons"by sleigh bells as inspiration, please enjoy? you don't really need to read the first one to know what's happening but it will give a little bit of context

_you drink the wise blood_

_you're gonna hear about it_

_you'll be taken down brick by brick by brick_

 

* * *

 

Sam laughs, an alcohol-infused, almost manic affair, and she waves her glittery black nails around and bats her eyes. And it's then - and only then - that Josh realises that everything has gone back to normal, just as he left it. It’s comforting, and simultaneously deeply disturbing.

He and Sam wander through the night market after she’s taken a few too many swigs of the whiskey she somehow got her hands on. She giggles, warm against his shoulder, her breath on his neck, and he thinks for a split second if they could ever be more than friends. He dismisses the thought as quick as it comes, and they sit quietly on a park bench.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” She asks playfully, grinning and nudging him.

“My place in the universe. Also, Norse Mythology,” he says, only half-jokingly, with a lopsided smile and sad eyes. Sam doesn't seem to notice the latter.

_Not her fault,_ Josh reminds himself, because Sam has had far too much to drink for someone her size. He wraps his lanky arms around her and counts his own freckles the way Muninn did to him the night Josh saw the avan’s eyes.

And Josh breathes. And Josh breathes.

And suddenly he feels it, feels the blood humming through Sam’s veins.

_Shit._

He hadn't anticipated this. After everything, he was still a bloody vampire - _haemocomeden_ the calm, strong, voice of Odin reminds him. Odin, damn him. He was always right, wasn't he?

_Probably because he's hundreds of years old,_ Josh sighs internally. He should have listened, he should have never agreed…

But then Muninn never would have tasted ice cream. Or felt the sun on his face, or Josh’s feather-light kisses that soaked up his tears. And the overwhelming amount of _get out_ Josh feels now is indescribable.

“Shit, look at the time,” Josh glances at his wrist, which doesn't have a watch on it, “I gotta go.”

 

* * *

 

When Josh spins round and rips out a copycat’s throat with his fangs, Sam throws up her hands and screams. He’s got blood running down his chin, and he just took out four… opponents? He can't really call them “guys,” they're definitely not human.

Josh feels his fangs sink back into his gums.

Neither is he.

 

* * *

 

See, after Josh tries to excuse himself from Sam’s company, she promptly throws up in a bush. The sickening smell of it masks the scent of Sam’s pulsing blood for a little while, so Josh decides to devote that time to getting Sam home safe.

But, Sam passes out. Josh is worried, so worried - what if she’s gonna die? He doesn't know much about alcohol. He can't call the cops or take her to a hospital, under the precedent that they'll ask too many questions and take too long and he'll accidentally kill them all. He can't _leave_ her, either - and when he takes her home, surprise! She's  moved house. The people who live there slammed the door on a poor teen kid in falling apart sneakers literally carrying a sleeping girl. Maybe Odin’s right, humans _are_ assholes.

He doesn't have anywhere to go. His dad moved out of town after Josh supposedly “died”. So, like an idiot, he goes to Odin’s van.

The place is absolutely _crawling_ with copycats. Well, crawling meaning four, but that's “crawling” for a caravan that small. He does the only thing he can think to do in the moment - instinct takes over, and he fights with what feels like ten times his usual strength, and a hundred times more fire. Sam is awake now, curled in the corner, shuddering, flinching at every horrific noise (there's an awful lot of those). He tells her not to look as he drains the copycats of their watery blood.

He leaves them dead on the floor. Odin’s vinyl is bloodstained.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’s running on a high, eyes dark, pupils like tidal pools in the fluorescent lights. He needs a haircut, too, black shaggy mess hanging unflatteringly from his skull, twigs of it itching across his face. He wants to rip it all off.

 

* * *

 

“So,” Sam whispers shakily, trying to get to her feet and looking to the roof, avoiding seeing the bodies scattered around the room. Josh feels himself start to come down - he's not hungry anymore. With this in mind, and also common sense, he really hopes no more copycats turn up. Or worse, whoever made them.

“Faked your death to get away from your shitty dad, huh?” Sam seems sobered up, “I think you left a couple things out.”

“Got any more whiskey?” Josh asks riskily.

“I don't know, Josh, is it poisonous to _motherfucking vampires?”_

“Not to drink, asshat,” Josh sighs, his head pounding, “To light this up.”

“Are you _crazy?”_ Sam shrieks, before going quiet, “Am _I?_ Is this a dream?”

“Nope,” Josh says, and pops his fangs out for show.

“Fucking Christ!” She screams, and he snorts.

“That might be a little hard with these. I’m sure Jesus is pretty hung,” he explains, shrugging, “His dick might get stuck-”

“Do _not_ finish that sentence,” Sam growls.

 

* * *

 

Sam is mad, understandably - but it's really not his fault. He didn't fake his own death, Odin did. Nearly as soon as Josh found out about that, he left!

Nearly.

He’d stayed for Muninn, ultimately. And then when copycats had come to kill them all and Huginn’s huge white wings had enveloped Muninn’s limp **_UNCONSCIOUS_ ** body, just unconscious, only unconscious, he'd seen the look in Odin’s eyes. The look of a soldier - a general. A commander.

“Don't leave,” those cold eyes ordered silently, and Josh had fled.

 

* * *

 

_burn the orphanage_

_you're gonna pay for it_

_they will purify block by block by block_

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah kudos and comments are really extra appreciated in original works so pretty please leave me a nice surprise to wake up to  
> love yall stay safe prq out


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